The Poetry Corner

Nursery Rhyme. CXLVI. Songs.

By Unknown

[From 'Histrio-mastix, or, the Player Whipt,' 4to, Lond. 1610. Mr. Rimbault tells me this is common in Yorkshire.] Some up, and some down, There's players in the town, You wot well who they be; The sun doth arise, To three companies, One, two, three, four, make wee! Besides we that travel, With pumps full of gravel, Made all of such running leather: That once in a week, New masters we seek, And never can hold together.